


Prolific

by smallenoughtofit



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Corruption, Dark Reylo Anthology, F/M, Murder, Serial Killers, no justified killings, not too much blood or gore, unrepentant violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:26:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallenoughtofit/pseuds/smallenoughtofit





	Prolific

**April 14, 2019**  
Morgan Crew didn’t understand how this had happened.

No, she understood exactly how this had happened. She’d been waiting for a tow truck on the side of the road and had been texting a friend, telling them exactly where she was and exactly what had happened when suddenly she’d had a cloth bag over her head. He’d been so fast and so strong, hauling her into his arms and into the car in movements so smooth and so fast that she hadn’t had a chance to react. She’d barely had a chance to scream or kick or understand what the actual fuck was going on before she’d ended up in the back of the trunk. He hadn’t bound her hands, but the sack around her head was knotted in such a way that she couldn’t understand how to undo it or loosen it. He’d tightened it quickly, but undoing it wasn’t easy. Morgan couldn’t understand how someone could make a knot do something like that, but he had. 

Morgan had tried desperately to claw or tear or chew a hole in the fabric of the bag, but the material, while thin enough that she could breathe through it easily, she couldn’t tear it or bite it. 

“Fucking useless lesbian and your useless short nails,” Morgan muttered to herself. She tried kicking at the taillights the way she remembered from that comedy special Taylor had shown her but kept missing. She’d only had a few minutes to try, anyway. Soon, the trunk was opening above her. Light spilled over her face, but she still couldn’t see through the bag. Her kidnapper didn’t say anything or even acknowledge her. He quickly bound her wrists with something, then taped her shoes together. 

What unnerved her was that she didn’t hear the sound of duct tape ripping, but felt it being applied. Had he already cut duct tape for this purpose? How well-planned was this? 

Did she know who the person who closed the trunk over her again?

Morgan had played it safe her entire life. She’d always texted someone when she was going somewhere new. She’d never opened the door for strangers and had looked up safety advice for every trip or scenario she could think of. She’d even meant to lock her doors while she waited for the tow truck. But she’d been distracted trying to follow the other safety tip of “always make sure someone knows where you are”. She’d stood out in the open for too long, trying to frantically text Trevor details. 

The message hadn’t even sent yet. 

No one, except a tow truck driver who was hours away, knew anything was wrong. 

And she didn’t know where her phone was. 

Time seemed to slow and she slid into a strange haze. She never fell asleep, but she eventually lost any sense of where she was or what she was feeling. Instead, she found herself thinking about Taylor. Taylor’s beautiful dark hair. The way that Taylor always hummed to herself while she was doing her makeup. She thought about the long weekend they’d spent together last December. They’d locked themselves in that little cabin and didn’t come out for three days. 

Christ, Morgan should have proposed then. She’d thought about it, but her dad had convinced her to wait until the pair of them were more financially secure. 

_God, I swear, if you get me out of this, I will go home and make an honest woman of Taylor Harkham,_ Morgan thought desperately. Prayer hadn’t been a big part of Morgan’s life for a long time, but God was listening to anyone who would pray to her.

At least, Morgan hoped so. 

The trunk opened suddenly, startling Morgan out of her stupor. She looked around wildly, even thought she knew she wouldn’t be able to. She had to try, even thought it was no use. The world suddenly shifted as the man lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. Morgan grunted as the man’s shoulder dug into her stomach. She sobbed, still unsure about why this was happening to her. There was only a slight shift of the man’s shoulders to warn her before he dropped her onto the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Morgan took a heaving breath as she landed on her back, but only ended up with the burlap sack sticking to her mouth. 

Morgan had only a second on the ground before the bag was suddenly pulled off of her. 

They were in a clearing in a forest, one with trees that were far taller and older than the ones that were near where her car had broken down. When Morgan turned her head to rest her cheek on the grass, she saw something that made her heart freeze. 

There was a hole in the ground a foot in front of her. It wasn’t an animal den or an old mineshaft. The was clean and dug intentionally. 

How long ago had he dug her grave? Had he been stalking her or did he just find her? 

“You’re late,” he said suddenly. 

Morgan looked around wildly, wondering what on earth her captor could be thinking. He had been silent from the moment he shoved her into his trunk, even as he unloaded her, covered her mouth, and bound her hands. Even when she’d tried to run, he’d kept silent. He hadn’t bargained with her or threatened her, but now he suddenly said, “you’re late”? 

“I had to get rid of some of your tracks,” another voice said. 

Morgan nearly retched, but the duct tape stopped her. If, before those words, she’d had any hope of survival, it was gone now. Two people didn’t kidnap someone for anything but murder or trafficking. 

She was going to die. 

“How was your day, babe?” the man asked casually. Morgan heard a quiet noise that she couldn’t place for a moment until she realized it was a kiss. It wasn’t loud or smacking like something a pair of serial killers in a movie. This wasn’t some erotic thrill for them, tying her up like this. 

The woman walked around the grave. She squatted down in front of Morgan across the gap of the grave, tilting her head to look at Morgan’s face. 

Morgan felt something hot run down her thighs, but she didn’t linger on what it was. The utter unconcern in those hazel eyes terrified her. She’d heard of female serial killers, but they were either wild spree killers or just going along with it because their partner was abusive. The woman in front of her wasn’t one of those women. Those eyes didn’t care if she lived or died. 

Morgan was too busy looking into the woman’s face to hear the rustle behind her and the slow click of a latch mechanism of a box closing. She didn’t see the sledgehammer coming and the woman, when she saw the hammer, didn’t react at all.

Rey Niima didn’t even flinch when her husband brought a sledgehammer down on Morgan Crew’s skull. 

Rey looked down at the blonde woman’s body, then at Kylo, “good catch,” she said. She gently toed the ruined face with one shoe, careful not to get blood on her. 

“Thanks,” Kylo said, setting the sledgehammer down on the grass.

“Do you think anyone saw her?” Rey asked. She reached into the girl’s pocket with her gloved hands, finding a phone and tossing it to Kylo. He smashed it easily with the sledgehammer, just to make sure nothing could be tracked via GPS too soon. 

“I doubt it,” Kylo said, pulling a driver’s license from his back pocket, “I know she’d broken down, but I don’t think she’d gotten a chance to call anyone. Even if she did, no one would the scene for at least an hour or more.” 

“Is that her I.D.?” Rey asked, nodding to the piece of plastic in Kylo’s gloved hand.

“Yeah,” Kylo said. He looked down at it, tilting it in the late afternoon light, “Morgan Crew. Her license is Oklahoma, but her plates are Texas.” 

“Maybe it’s a borrowed car,” Rey said. She left the body behind and walked over to the burlap sack she’d brought with her. 

“Either way, it will slow down the search because we have her I.D. and if the car isn’t hers, the plates will pull up someone else’s name,” Kylo said. He rolled the woman into the grave, then checked the grass for anything that was left. 

“When is our flight, by the way?” Rey asked.

“Tomorrow at 5,” Kylo said, stretching and putting the I.D. back in his pocket as he dropped the sledgehammer into the grave after the woman. 

“Oh, good,” Rey said, pulling both acid and bleach from the sack and setting them next to the grave, “that will give us time to toss the shovels.” 

“Where do you want to drop them?” Kylo asked.

“I was thinking of a dumpster near a coffee shop or maybe a storm drain,” Rey said. 

Kylo nodded, “sounds good. Do you want to do the pouring or…?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Rey said. She grabbed the jug, pouring acrid over the body, careful not to splash. She tossed the small container in after it, letting the acid eat through the unlabeled container and flash. 

“You’re so good at that,” Kylo said. He put an arm around her waist, pulling her against him and kissing the back of her neck lightly. Rey smiled, preening under his praise. Rey knew that she was skilled, but it was still not nice to hear it. In the five years they’d been doing this, they’d developed a system that was foolproof so far. At first, Rey’s weakness had been the execution of forensic countermeasures. She’d known what they should be, but actually having the upper body strength to break up bodies or take down targets. Kylo’s solution had been, of course, to go to the gym more. She’d rolled her eyes, but he had been right. Now that she and Kylo had started going to the gym together, Rey had the strength and speed to take on anyone who tried anything. 

There was also something fun about watching Kylo as he worked out across the gym from her. The didn’t do the same things since Kylo enjoyed more machines and lifting and Rey found a certain bliss in running, but she could always find him.  
They waited for almost an hour, sitting back against a tree and waiting for the acid to do its work. Kylo dozed at one point, but Rey stayed awake, watching her watch. 

After an hour, Rey nudged Kylo awake.

“Hmm?” Kylo asked blearily. 

“Time to finish up,” Rey said, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Kylo said. He stood, grabbing the last of the supplies and tossing them on top of the body. The pair of them piled the last several feet of dirt back into the grave.

“This was a good vacation,” Rey said, wiping her forehead.

“It was,” Kylo said, patting down one of the looser portions of the soil.

“We should come back here again in Spring,” Rey said, stretching and looking around for anything else they might have missed. As usual, there was nothing.

“That sounds nice, yeah,” Kylo said. 

Rey stared at the small gold band on her finger, “we need to plan for next time,” she said,

“Next time we get married?” Kylo asked.

“Oh no,” Rey said, “that’s not what I meant.”

Kylo looked down at her and kissed her, “I might marry you again anyway,” he said, chuckling. 

“Come on,” Rey said, smirking, “I want the shovels out of our hands by midnight.” 

**May 24, 2019**  
Rey knew Kylo was getting antsy. Between work, the gym, and sex with her, she could keep him generally in the bounds of normal and acceptable human behavior, but she also knew that five years of their slower pace was starting to wear on him. 

Before they’d met, he’d been operating alone and at a much faster pace. He’d also chosen easier targets, some of whom Rey was sure no one would miss. In another life, she might have been one of them. Planning a wedding had slowed them down even more, but Rey knew that being active in planning things had kept Kylo from trying to get creative on his own. 

“Come on, babe,” Rey said, turning in the car to look at him, “we’ve done two already this year. I think we need to slow down, just a little bit.” 

“I’ve done eighteen in a year,” Kylo said. 

“Those were all sex workers and addicts in Chicago,” Rey said flatly, “you lived in a shit part of town where things like that made sense. We live in the suburbs now. There are too many wealthy white people running around for things not to catch up with us.” 

“You’re right,” Kylo mumbled.

“Come on,” Rey said. She reached up and brushed her fingers through Kylo’s hair as he parked at their usual brunch place, “enjoy your birthday, hang out with your friends, and I promise: slowing down will be worth your while.”

They walked in side by side, holding hands as the walked over to the place where Finn and Rose were waiting for them. 

“Happy birthday, Kylo,” Finn said, shaking his hand and hugging Rey. 

“Thanks, man,” Kylo said cordially. He looked around, “are Poe and Kaydel-”

“Running late,” Rose said, “I think Poe’s been under a lot of stress recently.” 

“Well, at least he’s taking a bit of time off to hang out,” Rey said, sitting down. Poe was actually Kylo’s childhood friend who they’d reconnected with when they moved away from Chicago. He was also a homicide detective, which made him and Kylo the strangest foils that no one knew about. 

“Here they are!” Finn said. He grinned when Poe and Kaydel came in. Kaydel looked bright and awake, but Poe definitely looked like he’d been up late.  
Rey leaned against Kylo’s arm as Poe sat down across from them, “you okay?” Rey asked, “you- I mean, you love brunch.”

Poe groaned, sipping his mimosa, “it’s work. I just- this case is going cold.”

“Which case? The- the lawyer?” Rey asked.

“Yeah,” Poe said, “I know you haven’t heard much about it since it’s in Buschart county, but still. It’s not going anywhere.” 

“No shop talk,” Kaydel said, poking Poe in the arm, “I hear enough as it is. It’s brunch.”

Poe sighed, “you’re right.”

Rey rested her hand on Kylo’s thigh. She knew where the lawyer was. She and Kylo had left him in a deep grave on a summer’s night, strangled by some Home Depot rope. That was all. They’d even left his car. When she glanced at Kylo, the corner of his mouth was raised. He remembered the lawyer, too. It was the closest they’d ever done before. They never ever killed in the city or county where they lived. Before they’d met, Kylo had operated in a city that he lived in, but she’d reminded him never to shit where he ate.

“Okay okay, time to open presents,” Rose said cheerily.

Kylo tipped up his head and groaned, “no, no presents!”

“Sorry, babe!” Rey said. She reached out for the small bag that she’d hidden at Rose and Finn’s apartment the week before. 

Kylo sat and endured receiving new calligraphy ink from Kaydel, a hair mask from Poe, and a giftcard for movie tickets from Rose and Finn. 

“That’s like sixty random indie films, Rey,” Poe said, “I don’t know how you’re going to top that.”

Rey winked. She passed Kylo her bag. He opened it and pulled out a white porcilain mug. “Uh, thanks?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Put something hot in it,” Rey said. 

“May I?” Kylo asked, gesturing to Kaydel’s tea. She nodded, pouring it into Kylo’s mug as he opened the card. 

Kylo saw the sonogram picture just as the words “World’s Okay-est Dad” appeared on the mug. 

“Oh my god!” Rose squeaked. She practically jumped up and down in her seat as Kylo wrapped his arms around Rey. He trembled against her and pressed light kisses to the side of her head. 

“That’s why,” Rey whispered teasingly.

“Good reason,” Kylo said, nodding. They’d discussed kids and their work in the past. Between the time-consuming nature of their work, family responsibilities, and how much effort it took to get away with murder, they knew they’d have to back off it they ever got pregnant.

Now, after almost six years, that time was here, but Kylo didn’t seem upset about it in the slightest. 

Rey wasn’t, either. She’d never have done anything like this on her own, but she loved it now.

**February 19, 2013**

When they’d met, Kylo had been this isolated, dark, and mysterious person. They’d been just sort of distant strangers with a strange connection. That connection had pulled them into bed after a few weeks, but had kept them at an emotional distance for a long time.

After weeks and months of cautious work, Rey had finally gotten him to actually go out with her. Still, Rey had known he was hiding something. 

Two months after they started dating, she found out what it was. One of his nights out that always ended at five a.m. with a shower had begun and Rey decided to follow him. 

Rey found him standing over the body of some man she didn’t know, a hammer in one hand and a speck of blood on one cheek. So, he was a murderer. Her Kylo Ren, the man who made her feel safe and seen, was a killer. She had been broken down over and over by the age of twenty-one, but Kylo always thought she was strong. He’d tried to keep her clean and pure, away from this dark part of his life, but Rey didn’t want to be clean and pure. She wanted to be in the middle of this. Kylo wanted her even when she was sweaty and dirty or when he left her utterly wrecked of she was on the verge of exhaustion. Kylo wanted her even when she was a sobbing mess after a nightmare. 

If Kylo could want her after all of that, she still wanted him after this. She wanted to be a part of this.  
Without a word, Rey calmly walked forward, putting her keys in her pocket. Kylo stared at her as she stood next to the man’s ruined head. Rey reached out, wiping the blood from his cheek with one thumb. 

His tense and hopeful expression finally breaking, Kylo surged forward, kissing her with a mix of hunger and relief. Rey kissed back, one hand on his chest and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair. Kylo didn't touch her with anything but his mouth, careful to keep her free of blood, but Rey pulled away, licking a stray spot of blood from his neck, making him groan. 

Rey wasn’t an accomplice. She was his partner or she was nothing. 

Rey’s phone buzzed and she picked it up without hesitation. Wariness crossed Kylo’s face again, but he didn’t stop her. Rey answered Finn, who greeted her with a “how are you?”

“I’m good,” Rey giggled, looking into Kylo’s face.

“So you found him?”

“Oh, yeah. I definitely did,” Rey said. Still silent, Kylo leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers as Finn winced.

“Bitch, tell me you didn’t answer the phone while nekkid,” Finn horror made her laugh in earnest.

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” Rey said, smiling. 

Finn hung up.

That was six years, two months, and twenty-seven victims ago. 

**October 5, 2071**  
Poe Dameron hadn’t meant to ever see what was in the safety deposit box. Until the day he died, he would regret ever looking, but he had wanted to make sure that Rey and Kylo hadn’t been trying to keep something from their children and grandchildren or if this had just been about avoiding the bickering over heirlooms that they’d seen so many times before. 

At ninety, Poe Dameron was still able to get around comfortably, but his oldest granddaughter had insisted on coming with him. She was a lawyer and tended to be overcautious about anything to do with money. 

“Right this way, Mr. Dameron,” the teller said, leading the way into the safe room. 

“So, do you have any idea what’s in here?” Maria asked, her low heels clicking pleasantly on the cold tile floor. 

“None at all,” Poe said, “Rey and Kylo moved all around the country, but I stayed put for the most part. I didn’t even know that they had a box in this bank. They were both living in Atlanta when they died.” 

“They died in the same week, didn’t they?” Maria asked, not unkindly.

“Yes,” Poe said, “Rey passed on a Friday and Kylo was gone by Sunday morning.” 

“And this was in their joint will?” Maria said. She held her breath as the teller drew the box from its place. Poe smiled, even though none of his children or grandchildren had taken up a career in law enforcement, Maria had inherited his hatred for unanswered questions. 

“I’ll be right outside,” the teller said, stepping outside the vault and letting them be alone. 

Poe inserted the key into the lock, finally ready to see what his friends of almost seventy years had left him. When he lifted the lid, he was greeted with a stack of plastic and paper that immediately confused him. On top of the pile of mostly-white cards as a small blue envelope with one word written on it: _Poe_. 

It was Kylo’s handwriting. 

Poe picked up the envelope and read the card inside. 

_We wanted to make sure you had all the answers you wanted.  
Love always, Kylo and Rey_

Poe picked up one of the pieces of plastic and flipped it over. It was an old driver’s liscence, clearly from the early 2000s. Taped to it was a note with numbers written on it. 

“Abuelo, what is it?” Maria whispered. 

“I- I don’t understand,” Poe said. He slowly started picking up the pieces of plastic. There were so _many_ of them that it was difficult. He put them aside, looking for any face that he recognized. The ages, faces, names, and styles all varied. They were from a wide variety of years and states, but they all had a note attached to them. One finally jumped out at Poe. 

It was Andrew Doyle, a lawyer whose disappearance had gone unsolved way back in 2019. 

Rey and Kylo had Andrew Doyle’s driver’s liscence. 

“Abuelo?” Maria asked.

“Give me your phone, please,” Poe said. Somehow, his voice remained steady. 

Ramirez, a now-chief that Poe had mentored years ago, tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice, but he told Poe he would send someone to the coordinates that Poe had given him. Poe had put the I.D.s back, called his wife and told her that he’d be late, and waited at a diner down the street. 

Chief Ramirez of Buschart County found a partially-dissolved skeleton at the exact coordinates Poe had given them. Inside was a hammer, Doyle’s keys, and other pieces of evidence. Most of them were barely identifiable and would take months to identify, but all the officers all the scene had a sinking suspicion that this was the tip of the iceberg. 

Chief Ramirez wasn’t the one who called Poe back. Instead, it was an FBI field office, who wanted to know how he’d known where to find a skeleton in the middle of nowhere. Within an hour, Poe Dameron and his granddaughter were in an FBI field office, helping answer questions and sort through the pile of driver’s licenses. 

In the following months, Poe Dameron would be credited for closing the most cases with a single tip. Kylo and Rey Ren were attributed with killing more than four hundred people across more than fifty years, both apart and together. 

By the time Poe Dameron passed away at the age of ninety-nine, a clear timeline had been established and more than twelve books had been published about Rey, Kylo, or both. A movie script was being written, although Poe only agreed to consult if the writer’s promised not to film until after he died. 

Kylo Ren’s first victim was a neighborhood bully when he was nineteen. The kid had been declared a runaway and his school I.D. was in the safety deposit box along with the coordinates for a flooded quarry. His bones were never found, but his case was closed. 

By the time Rey and Kylo met, he had killed around fifty people, including thirteen sex workers in two years in Chicago alone. The sheer number of homeless people, addicts, and sex workers who had been kidnapped and murdered without any fuss led to an overhaul of how the city approached citizens with high-risk lifestyles. 

Rey only ever killed one person that she knew. Her old foster father had, they thought, died of complications related to his sleep apnea, but when they found his license and address in the box, his case had been relabelled a homicide. 

For the next sevety years, law enforcement would discuss how so many people could go missing without a single body being found. It had led to a reevaluation of thousands of missing person cases and unidentified bodies, hoping that at least one member of law enforcement had found a victim somewhere along the way. 

What haunted Poe Dameron and everyone else involved with Kylo and Rey wasn’t the fact that they’d killed so many, but it was wondering if, although they were dubbed the most prolific serial killers in human history, they might actually be behind someone else, someone who was still out there and who would not leave behind a confession and corroboration. 

There might be an unidentified, uncaught, and uncatchable killer and they’d never know.


End file.
